


Scarred

by LittleKipepeo



Category: The Lion King (1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-06 07:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18846010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleKipepeo/pseuds/LittleKipepeo
Summary: So here's a question: how does someone be alright with the idea of killing their own brother?Two brothers grow up in the Plainslands, vowing that no matter what, they'll always be there for each other. As they'll find out, however, things change with time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I got this idea after watching Starkid's version of Twisted. It will be in the vein of Wicked more than Twisted, however. A lot of playing around with characters about the canon (not all of them) and taking account of natural behaviors.
> 
> Anyway, onward to Act I.

_“Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba.”_  
_“Sithi uhhmm….ingonyama.”_

* * *

 

A fog rolls over the plains as the sun rises, its reddish light scattering over the land. Hippos slowly return to their rivers, full from a night of feeding. The herds are beginning to wake up, the antelope and zebra beginning to spread out and graze. The low roar of lions echo in the distance, but the herds do not panic. They recognize the type of roar: a gathering call. There is the temptation to look around to see is missing one of their members, but instead, each herd is grazing. After all…one doesn’t have to worry about fed lions.

In a nearby thicket, a lioness listens to the roars. She is four years old, and despite being a bit underweight, she is still in the prime of her life. She is Uru, named for her pale yellow fur that in certain lighting seems almost white. She looks towards the roars with longing before turning her head towards the reason why she’s so far away from her pride.

Their eyes are still closed, mewling as they nose against their mother’s belly. She hasn’t named them yet. Her mother had warned her about getting too attached this soon. _“It’s hard, but please wait, Uru. Life is hard for us. Imagine how hard it is for a cub.”_ Still, she has high hopes for her cubs. Five little ones: two white, two tawny brown, and the last a faint yellow. They are all healthy and provided she does everything right, within several weeks they will be able to meet the pride.

She stares at the two white cubs; unlike the other cubs, they don’t even have spots to camouflage them. If she hadn’t known one of her great aunts had white fur, she would have been surprised to see such a thing. The white female would probably be alright within the pride, though she may have some difficulty hunting. She is worried more about the male. His coat will do him no favors in trying to attract lionesses.

Her gaze wanders to the two tawny cubs. They resemble their father, and she knows their fur will darken into the orange of dried riverbeds when they are older. One of them is the runt, however. Ever since her cubs have been born, she has worried about this little one, afraid that she’ll wake up and find him cold and lifeless. So far, he has managed to survive, able to get enough despite his bigger siblings pushing him away.

Speaking of which, she finally looks at the faint yellow cub. If the tawny run was small, this yellow cub was the biggest. She smiles, wondering if he’ll resemble his grandfather one day. It wouldn’t surprise her if he got as big as him. _Perhaps even bigger._

She stares at the thicket entrance. She is almost out of milk and she would have to hunt soon. Her tail flicks with worry (her mother never warned her about how much of motherhood was spent with _worrying_ ). Hunting with a pride had been easy, but alone?

A determined look crosses her face. No matter the difficulties, her cubs depend on her success.

She will not fail them.

 

Uru eyes the impala carcass hanging from the branches of the tree, the rabbit she had been chasing slipping away into the safety of the underbrush. She doesn't even care, coming closer to the tree. The carcass is high enough in the tree to make her think twice about climbing…but low enough to not be a completely impossible feat. She stares long and hard, licking her lips. She had been feeding off rodents and hares since parting with her pride; if successful in getting this down, it would be the biggest thing she has eaten in a while. 

The tree looks strong enough to support her, though she knows a fall that great could either lead to a life ending injury. Still...the pros seemed to outweigh the cons at the moment.  She sniffs the area, glancing around for any sign of a leopard being nearby. The scent a male leopard stings her nose…but it’s faint. Who knows when he'll be back.

Her tail flicks as she makes up her mind. She begins to climb the tree, her ascent awkward but steady. How was I able to do this as a cub? she thinks as she gets closer to the carcass. After what feels like an eternity, she manages to get on the same level as the carcass. She clings onto the trunk, testing the branch with a hind paw. It feels awkward and she instantly pulls away.

Plan B it is.

Gritting her teeth, she gives the branch a small kick. It sways, but the carcass stubbornly stays on the branch. Uru narrows her eyes, letting out a low growl before giving the branch a hard swat with a forepaw.

The strike nearly sends her out the tree and she quickly digs her claws into the trunk, her heart pounding in her chest. A dull thud catches her attention and she looks at the ground. She smiles.

Easy lunch.

 

Uru is full and pleased with herself as she walks back to the thicket she has been calling home...though her walk grows rigid when she spots a jackal standing nearby. When she realizes it is staring at the thicket, she lets out a snarl, all but entering a charge.

The jackal turns towards her, eyes wide and tail tucked beneath their body as they try to get out the way of danger. In their panic, they trip over themselves. So by the time Uru is upon them, they're on their back, whimpering and cringing at her presence.

They stink of fear and canine odor...but there is not a trace of blood.

So she forces herself to calm down. No need to be bloodthirsty when she has eaten already. "What are you doing here?" she asks.

At first, they do not answer. Then..."Smelled young! Checking if they were abandoned."

Uru narrows her eyes with a grunt.  _At least he's honest._ "Well...they're not," she growls. "Thank you for the concern, but I'm their mother."

"That's good to hear! Good to see a good mother!" he gives her an awkward smile. "Am...I free to go?" 

"Yes," she nods. She watches as the jackal scrambles to his feet and sprints away, waiting for him to be out of sight before rushing into the den.

She lets out a sigh of relief as all five cubs are accounted for. But the jackal's appearance has frazzled her. She is suddenly aware of how strong the scent of cub is here and how the area is becoming more and more obvious that someone is living here. 

She got lucky with the jackal, but what about next time? She has caught scent of warthogs and hyenas and badgers in the area...not a risk to her, but to five helpless little cubs? A death sentence.

Her ears flatten at the realization of what has to be done, but she lays down, watching her cubs suckle. "Eat well, little ones. We'll be moving soon."

 

As a mother lioness plans to move her cubs to a new den, a male leopard returns to his favorite tree. He lets out a snarl when he sees the impala that he had worked so hard to hunt not in the branches, but on the ground. He circles the carcass, sniffing.

Most of the meat has been picked off, now swarmed by flies and ants. Still, he catches the fresh stench of lion that clings to his kill. To his surprise, it's a single lion, female and...

His eyes narrow.  _Nursing._

A nursing lion meant cubs. He looks at the remains of the impala again, flicking his tail before disappearing into the grass again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit tricky to do. Hopefully, every thing balances out.

She finds the issue of moving her cubs is not finding a new den, but rather the fact she has _five_ cubs to move. She supposes that things will be easier when they’re able to walk, but currently? Currently, she has to figure out which cub to move first.

As her eyes dart along each precious cub, instinctively she knows it’s in her best interest to move the healthiest one first. That said, it doesn’t make the decision any easier. Guilt gnaws at her insides as she looks the rest of the cubs. “Alright, little ones,” she begins, nuzzling each one. “I’ll be right back,” she promises as she picks up the yellow cub.

The other cubs mewl at the sudden absence of their brother, though they grow quiet when they hear their mother leave.

Uru stands at the entrance of the den, ears swiveling as she looks about. Her yellow cub safely dangles in her jaw, quiet and still. Just as her instincts urge her to find a new den, his instincts urge him to not wiggle about in his mother’s mouth. Uru sniffs a few times, taking a step forward. All seems quiet around the thicket, and thankfully no signs of any nosy jackals. After a moment of waiting, she quickly trots off into the long grass.

The new den is an old abandoned burrow that while not too far off, is still not in sight of the old den. So, she hurries as fast as she can with a cub in her mouth. And as she makes her way across the plains, she is unaware that in her earlier searches, she should have looked up into the nearby trees as well.

 

A jackal furiously digs into the ground, pausing ever so often to listen for the rodents below. Licking his lips, he continues to dig. His name is Mende and he has three pups and a mate waiting for him to bring back food. Digging gives time for reflection, so his thoughts wander to how lucky he was the other day.

Lioness mothers weren’t exactly known for their forgiving natures to would-be predators, especially when said would-be predators were close to their cubs. _Can’t blame her_ , he thinks. If roles were switched, he's sure that he and his mate would do anything to make sure their pups were safe.

He pauses again, this time looking in towards the thicket in the distance. His mate had urged him not to hunt in this area again, but it was part of their territory and it’s one of his favorite hunting grounds. Besides, there are certain advantages to hanging around larger carnivores (so long as you don’t come across them when they’re hungry…).

Earlier, he had seen the lioness hurrying by with one of her cubs. A wise decision; that thicket heavily stinks of lion cubs now. _I wonder if she’s a new—_

He freezes up when he catches wind of a leopard. All thoughts of hunting flee his mind like a herd of startled antelopes. He leaps into a nearby bush. Not a moment too soon. A large, male leopard comes stalking through where he had just been. Mende shivers. He has seen this leopard before…

Uchungu.

The leopard pauses. Mende couches, muscles clenching. Uchungu sniffs…then continues on, seemingly uninterested.

Mende lets out a sigh of relief. There have been times he has hung around the leopard’s tree in hopes of finding some scraps of a meal that had fallen to the ground. But he knew better to do that while the leopard was around. Mean as a honey badger with a toothache…he didn’t even like someone trying to steal _bones_. Who knows what the leopard would do during a hunt.

But…this had to be the first time Mende has seen the leopard in this area. What is he doing over here?

His ears perk up when he hears the rustling of branches. Coming out the bush, he looks around, spotting Uchungu nosing about the thicket. Mende flattens his ears, the answer suddenly clear.

He looks away. It’s none of his concern. He has his own pups to think about and he doesn’t want to risk the chance of someone like Uchungu upset at him.

But…the lioness did let him go instead of killing him…and he would want someone to warn him if his pups were in danger.

Resisting the urge to growl, Mende hurries away, following the scent of the lioness.

 

Uru shakes the dirt off her fur the best she can. She has just finished opening the entrance of the abandoned burrow (she supposes it’s her den now) enough to allow her to fit inside. She deposits the yellow cub inside, giving him a few licks before nuzzling him. “Be right back.”

As she exits the burrow, her eyes widen when she she sees a jackal standing before her. Their boldness is already annoying, but when she smells it’s the same jackal from before, she’s filled with hot rage. Her face twists into a nasty snarl. “You!" She marches forward, claws out.  "What are you doing—”

Yesterday, the jackal had been a cringing mess. Today, he shakes his head (though fear still clings to them like a cloud of flies). “No time!” he interrupts, backing up. “A leopard’s at your den!”

At first, confusion crosses her face. Then panic. Uru runs forward, the jackal struggling to keep up. Uru doesn’t even realize he’s following. All she can think about is her cubs.

 

She reaches the thicket in record time, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. As she does, the smell of blood is heavy in the air. She sees the back end of a leopard sticking out the entrance of her den. The leopard, realizing he’s no longer alone, backs out the den and stares at her.

A limp, bloodstained white bundle of fur hangs in his jaws.

Uru lets out a roar that is equal parts mournful and enraged. It doesn’t even feel like she has control of her own body anymore; she is suddenly charging forward with energy she didn’t know she had left. The leopard looks side-to-side for a means of escape, but it’s too late: Uru hits him with the force of a rhino.

Uchungu is a big leopard, but even a lioness outsizes him. Uru is merciless as she batters him about with heavy swipes. She can smell he’s on the edge of panic and it fills her with bloodlust. How dare this coward wait for her to leave and attack her helpless cubs? With each hit to the head, she has his world spinning, and his shoulders and chest are beginning to get coated with blood. He does his best to fight back, but it is as though for ever swipe he does, Uru has two more coming his way. It becomes clear that while he’s fighting to try to find an opening to get away, Uru is fighting to end his life. So he needs to escape and he needs to escape now.

So, in a moment of desperation, he tosses the cub in his mouth at Uru.

As expected, she attempts to catch the cub in hopes they’re alive. Her heart breaks all over again when the cub doesn’t even respond to her catching them. Baring her teeth, she looks back at the leopard, bloodlust doubled…

Only to find him running off into in the distance.

She nearly chases after the bastard when she hears it: a faint, fearful mewl. She hurries into the den. The carnage around her nearly sends her to the ground, but she is pulled away from her despair by a second mewl. She looks around, wondering if she’s actually hearing the sound or if it’s hopeful thinking on her end.

Then…

There! Hiding among the tangles of branches is the runt. Already small, his spots and tawny coloring made him tricky to see. Uru’s eyes water. He must have managed to crawl to safety and avoid the same fate as his brothers and sister. She crouches close, letting out a soft, shaky, “It’s me, little one.”

It takes a moment, but the cub crawls to her, his mewls pitiful. She licks him clean, tears streaming down her face. Behind her, she can hear the jackal approaching the den. To her surprise, she catches a hint of sadness to his scent. “I’m…so sorry, Lion.”

There is a genuine note to his tone that makes her wonder if he has gone through this before.

Uru sniffles. It hurts, but she is glad she took her mother’s advice and hadn’t named them yet. She is sure it would have hurt more if she had. Even now, the pain has become a dull ache in her heart. It may seem a bit cold, but she still has two remaining cubs that depend on her; with life as hard as it is on the plains, she doesn’t have the time or luxury to fully grieve.

She turns to look at the jackal. “If it weren’t for your help, I would have lost them all,” she begins softly, glancing down at her surviving cub. She looks back at the jackal. “Thank you…” she trails off, realizing he doesn’t even know the jackal’s name.

He fills the silence with, “Mende, Lion.”

She gives him a humorless smile. “Uru.”

“Uru,” he nods, stepping aside when she picks her up up and exits the den. “Good travels, Uru,” he says as she walks off. She looks back to him, nods, then hurries to her new den.

 

Mende waits for her to be well out of earshot before he enters the den. His heart does go out to the lioness, it really does, but pity will not fill his family’s stomach. Again, it may seem cold, but that is just how life is on the plains.


End file.
